


This Tango Wasn't Meant For Two

by rickandmortygetschwifty



Series: SDOHC series [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, How Rick and Morty got together, Incest, M/M, Rick Whump, Rick feels, Whump, flashback sequences, hoo boy lots of angst, sequel fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 05:03:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rickandmortygetschwifty/pseuds/rickandmortygetschwifty
Summary: A month ago, Rick broke Morty’s heart and left without a word. Rick reminisces about the past and tries to mend his broken relationship with his grandson in the only way he knows how.----This is a kinda-sorta sequel to my previous fic,Slow Dancing on Hot Coals.You don’t need to read that first to understand this fic, but it can provide some context!





	This Tango Wasn't Meant For Two

On the ninety-second floor of a run-down building, on a planet thousands of parsecs away from Earth, was an apartment unit that was home to a very extraordinary man. All the lights in its rooms were never turned on, and the only noise that could be heard on most nights was from a battered TV set to fizzling static. Strange smells hung in the air; the apartment owner rarely bothered to tidy up his home. Several bottles, most of them with their contents drained, lay scattered on every available flat surface. The tables, the kitchen counter, the couch, the unmade bed, and even the floor were covered in mysterious dark stains.

On one particular night, the lone occupant of the apartment sat alone in the dark, doing absolutely nothing. It had been hours since he had gone back from a party, surprisingly sober as he unlocked his front door. He had not gone to bed, however, but instead threw himself over the old, itchy sofa in his living room, unscrewed the cap of a vodka bottle, and proceeded to drink the rest of the night away.

Rick Sanchez poured himself another shot of vodka, hands trembling as he held his half-empty glass under the bottle. Rick cursed when his hands slipped and the clear drops of liquid dribbled all over his blue shirt. Rick sighed, standing up and feeling around blindly for several seconds for his handkerchief. He found it in his lab coat, thrown carelessly over the seat of a plastic chair. Rick retrieved the hanky from one of the pockets and pressed it over his damp chest. He froze as a square piece of paper fell out of the pocket, fluttering to the grimy floor.

Illuminated only by the dim moonlight streaming in from an open window, the smiling face of Morty looked back at him. It was a photo that had captured the boy in the middle of eating a triple scoop of strawberry swirl ice cream, the scoops of frozen dairy treat teetering precariously on top of a chocolate waffle cone. Morty was laughing and tugging on a blue-sleeved arm, its owner refusing to be tugged into view. He took no notice of the ice cream in his hand dripping onto his fingers.

The wrinkled photo was dogeared at the edges and it was stained with a fluid that smelled suspiciously of petrol, but it had been folded lovingly into neat little squares and tucked carefully into the lab coat. Rick bent down to pick it up, staring at it for several long minutes, before ripping the photo right down the middle. White paper littered the floor as he tore it in halves, then quarters, then eighths, until the pieces were too small to tear. He stalked over to a tiny bathroom at the end of a hallway, throwing the pieces straight into the toilet. He watched as his last memory of his grandson was flushed away.

Rick walked over to the balcony and leaned over the railing, observing the alien sky above him. Two red moons hung in the sky, and the sky was clear of any clouds and stars. The wind howled in his ears: cold, bitter and unwelcoming. Exactly how Rick was feeling on this night. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a few moments to remember the painful memories that he was still trying to suppress.

It started off hesitant. Almost like a dance where the participants first circled each other; almost as if they were rivals instead of partners. Morty were both unwilling to begin something which they knew they would regret. But they started it anyway, and it both led them down a path they would later regret.

* * *

_Morty was the first to cave in. It was a moment of weakness, but Rick knew he himself was the idiot for accepting it. Months and years of having Morty as a companion had not made him accustomed to the boy’s appeal. And if the occasional glances of adoration and fondness that Morty threw his way were any indication, it was clear that the other was struggling too._

_It happened straight after a tiring adventure, and Rick and Morty were on their way back to the ship. Rick watched the way his grandson walked ahead with a kind of easy grace that Rick never saw in kids Morty’s age. When exactly had Morty grown up, and why was his grandson so damn pretty? Rick resented himself for noticing this, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring, even when Morty looked back and caught Rick in the act._

_Rick wiped off the hungry look on his own face, but it was too late. Morty had seen him. His grandson gave him a questioning look; that familiar, tension-filled silence descending upon them. Rick’s heart thumped loudly as the boy spun on his heel and walked up to him._

_Rick was shocked speechless when Morty yanked him down by his labcoat and kissed him full on the mouth._

* * *

Rick slapped a hand to his face, trying to banish the offending memory from his mind. What possessed him to just stand there and let his grandson kiss him? Why didn’t he just push Morty away, call him a freak, or do any number of other things other than just stand stock-still and let the boy ravage his mouth? Why didn’t Rick just nip it in the bud instead of letting it grow into the clusterfuck that landed him in this situation in the first place?

 _Ah, but you know why,_  a voice whispered in his ear.  _You know exactly why. It’s the same reason you didn’t stop it all those other times, right? You had so many chances . You could’ve walked away.  You_ chose  _this. You chose_   _to destroy your own  life. You chose to destroy your grandson’s life. You willingly decided to wreck his poor heart, didn’t you?_

_Because deep down, you know you wanted it. You wanted him to kiss you, because you loved–_

“No, no, no,” Rick snarled, shaking his head violently to clear his head of the traitorous voice. His hand balled into fists. He was not going to entertain any more pointless thoughts. What was done is done. All that was left now were his tainted memories.

* * *

_Morty broke the kiss with an expectant look on his face His grandson looked like he was bracing for a punch. Or a shouting match. Or any sort of acknowledgement from Rick about what had transpired between them. Anything_ but  _what Rick actually did._

 _Instead, Rick stayed rooted to his spot, unable to believe what Morty had done. For once, Rick had no scathing comeback, no witty reply to Morty’s antics. His grandson had_ kissed him.  _And it was not the kind of kiss that could be passed off as a gesture of affection. Morty had kissed him with such fervor and reverence and… undeniable lust. And the feelings that the boy had shown in one kiss was enough to overwhelm Rick._

_When it seemed apparent that Rick would not immediately answer, Morty’s expression soured. The boy stepped away from him and continued his way toward the spaceship, not looking back to see if his grandfather was following. What followed was an excruciating silence as the ship hurtled home. When Morty went upstairs to his bedroom, hardly sparing a word to him, Rick thought that was the end of it. That he could move on and pretend that it all was a figment of his imagination._

_He thought wrong._

* * *

A drop of something dark and glistening landed on the railings. Rick was pulled out of his memories abruptly, attention caught by his hands that were wet and sticky with red blood. Rick winced as he relaxed them, the sting of pain crawling up his arm assaulting him without warning. He had clenched his fists a little too tightly. Breathing deeply, Rick looked down at the violent red indents his fingernails had left on his skin. Blood leaked out of the eight open cuts in his palms, dripping onto the distant ground right below his balcony.

Rick didn’t bother getting any bandages for his wounds, instead opting to watch his blood vanish to the street below. He needed to feel the stings, anyway. He needed to remember this was real. That this wasn’t some cruel joke being played on him, and that he wasn’t going to wake up the next day, with everything he’d done just a strange dream…

* * *

_The next day had Morty acting like Rick’s rejection hadn’t affected him._

_Rick was surprised the morning after when Morty traipsed into the dining room cheerfully, addressing him with a smile on his face. Rick was stunned for several seconds before he replied to his grandson, covering up his own confusion with a backhanded comment. But little did he know then that his grandson hadn’t forgotten his rejection. Morty hadn’t been discouraged. In fact, Rick’s reaction might’ve made Morty all the more determined to press on with whatever the hell he was trying to start between Rick._

_Morty kept offering himself, the unspoken invitation hanging over them._

_Morty’s whole attitude did a complete 360. When before, Morty used to whine and complain whenever Rick dragged him out, now, he ambushes Rick at odd hours every day, begging to be taken out for more adventures. Morty’s unfailingly cooperative and agreeable with him, never snapping back with retorts when Rick’s hurling insults. The boy stands too close to him, finds every excuse to touch Rick, and makes lewd jokes whenever no one’s around to hear. And as more time passes, Morty grows bolder, once even sitting in Rick’s lap and grinding down on his groin while Beth was in the next room._

_Rick wasn’t an idiot. He knew what his grandson was trying to accomplish. But it still drove Rick mad, seeing Morty tease and tantalize only for the boy to turn around, batting his eyes and asking, “What’s wrong, Rick?” in faux innocence._ You little shit, you know  _exactly_ what you’re doing.

_Rick was cornered. To confront the boy was to admit there was something between them. And Rick would have to acknowledge what had happened between them, which he had avoided thinking about since that fateful day. And so Rick made no move to stop his grandson’s advances, until his self-control had been eroded bit by bit by an unrelenting and patient Morty._

_Morty’s smug grin when Rick pushed him into a broom closet was soon wiped off his face by a bruising kiss._

* * *

Rick patted his pants pockets until he felt the hard corner of the object he was looking for. Retrieving the battered box of cigarettes from its place, he quickly lit a soggy one with a lighter before returning to gaze at the blood red moons. He closed his eyes, exhaling a puff of smoke and watching it mingle with the night air. The city was starting to bustle with life, its nocturnal residents ready to start their work shifts. A few early birds took to the streets and headed for their cars.

It was almost time to enact his plan. He had been mulling over it for weeks, weighing the option against his self-imposed exile. Seeing which one would hurt him more.

“Just some more time,” he mumbled to no one in particular.

* * *

_If only Rick had the tiniest amount of self-control. If only he was half as responsible as he ought to be at his age. If only he knew how to put his foot down when it came to his grandson. If only he wasn’t greedy, wasn’t stupid, wasn’t thinking with his cock… then maybe Morty would’ve been saved from it all. But he had never been that kind of man, and Morty had suffered all the more for it._

_Rick fell head-first into hell, ignoring the feeble voice of his conscience as he imprinted himself on every little part of his grandson. After their first kiss in a dimly-lit broom closet, Morty seemed even more hungry for a taste of his grandfather. Rick was all-too-willing to provide, despite his initial restraint._

_It was sick, it was wrong, it was so fucking disgusting. Any sane person would faint in horror if they found themselves in Rick’s position. But even this knowledge doesn’t stop him from pressing close to Morty whenever they’re alone; doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around the boy whenever he gets pulled down for a kiss.  He knows he’s taking advantage of Morty’s unhealthy infatuation for him, but he could never resist the charm and appeal of his grandson._

_He only feels a twinge of guilt whenever he pulls away from his Morty’s mouth and catches a glimpse of his unguarded, vulnerable expression. The expression of someone about to fall deeply, hopelessly in love. The expression that Rick had vowed to never return to Morty._

_Morty never deserved this._

* * *

A cloud skittered over one of the moons, casting a shadow over Rick’s face. There was no more time to waste. No more time for remembering. Rick sighed and went back to his apartment, throwing another solitary glance at the world outside. It was a nice view, but not the view that he longed for. It wasn’t the quiet night sky of the suburbs, with the familiar view of an empty and serene backyard and the knowledge that he could just turn around and retreat to the happy chatter of his family. Flicking the remains of his used cigarette into a dirty ashtray, Rick stretched and went back inside. His mind was already set.

He had some packing to do.

* * *

_Rick’s inappropriate relationship with Morty crosses the threshold into sexual territory when the boy pounces on him at just the right moment. The kid was too damn shrewd for his own good– he read Rick too well and he had a sixth sense for Rick’s vulnerability. Morty had tried to break Rick’s will before; but Rick had made sure not to touch his grandson that way. He was a depraved man who had already gone too far, but he was a depraved man with a conscience. Every single touch, every single kiss that Rick initiated, left a bitter taste in his mouth. Pushing Morty away and retreating to the safety of his emotional barriers did little to wash off the taste, but it made Rick feel less of a monster._

_And still Morty pushed, never satisfied with how much he had taken; never realizing that Rick had already given him his heart. It had become a dangerous dance to see whose will would break first._

_One day, Rick had tried to dispel the sick lust he had for Morty by disappearing for a whole week, off to a planet where he buried himself in drugs and booze and sex, seeking the momentary solace of a simple, uncomplicated fuck. But when Rick crawled back home from his week of  sheer inanity, feeling like complete shit and fully expecting Morty to tear into him, his grandson did something even worse._

_Morty wasn’t mad at him. Not one bit. Morty had even waited downstairs every night for him to return, and he didn’t say a word as he took in Rick’s disheveled appearance. The boy had simply soothed his grandfather’s jumbled mess of confusing emotions, helped him make his slow way to his bedroom, and tucked him in for the night._

_The night would have ended there, if Rick hadn’t made the terrible mistake of “accidentally” pulling Morty on top of him._

_The other Smiths were asleep upstairs, the room was dark save for a sliver of light from beyond a door left ajar, and Morty was staring down at him with a face that quickly morphed to longing when Rick pulled him closer. Morty was clad in nothing but a loose shirt and boxers, and even in the dim light, Rick’s addled brain made him think the boy was beautiful._

_Rick woke up to an empty room and an open door, now accompanied by hazy memories of him slipping his hand down a pair of boxers and gripping someone’s soft cock. He shuddered as he recalled a familiar voice, warm hands, and a pair of soft lips on his neck as Rick’s hand pumped the other’s cock without abandon. On that day, his and Morty’s relationship changed yet again. Then came the late-night visits to each other’s rooms, exploring each other’s bodies in the dead of night._

* * *

Rick dumped all the scattered bottles off his bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in the blanket before placing a battered luggage bag on its surface. He began to root through all the drawers in his room, pulling out all of his underwear and t-shirts from where it was hidden. He pulled all of his lab coats off the hangers of his wardrobe, depositing all of them beside his bag. Sighing, he started to fold them neatly, his mind wandering to his memories once again.

* * *

_Rick had nothing to say to defend himself. Morty had eroded all of his barriers, and all he could say to his conscience was that he had not touched the boy, not really. No matter how much his grandson begged and pleaded, Rick had not succumbed to the temptation of taking Morty’s virginity. He may have done some really fucked up things with the boy, but at least he didn’t step over this line. Did it say a lot about him that this was the only thing that made him feel good about the toxic relationship he had gotten himself into? What he had gotten_ Morty  _into? If he really was disgusted by everything,_ then why the fuck didn’t he stop it?

* * *

Rick went to his bathroom, cleaning the whole space of his tiny bottles of shampoo, conditioner and aftershave. After locating his razor in the space under his sink, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His gaze darted away from it quickly, not wanting a longer look at the bloodshot eyes, disheveled clothes, unshaven face, and hollow, tired expression of the man that looked back at him.  He left the room quickly, an armful of bottles and toiletries in his hand. He didn’t need to look in the mirror to be reminded of what he had become.

* * *

_It was funny, really… after all the shit they’ve done, after every unimaginably depraved thing Rick had done with Morty, it was something comparatively tame that did them in. It was one ordinary evening, with the rest of their family out of the house, when they started fooling around recklessly. They were in the living room, laughing and chatting like all the months of tension from hiding their relationship had just melted away. Rick had pulled his grandson onto his lap playfully, pressing a kiss to the other’s lips that deepened until–_

_Beth and Jerry interrupted their kiss without warning, loudly announcing their arrival and not allowing the two occupants of the living room any time to untangle themselves from their compromising position. Beth and Jerry gaped as they caught Rick and Morty in the middle of sucking each other’s faces off. Their faces turned black with fury as they started to unleash hell upon Rick._

_“I always knew you were messed up in the head, Rick! But this?!” Jerry had screamed. “THIS CROSSES ALL THE DAMN LINES! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY SON!”_

_Beth’s words made Rick feel ten times worse than anything Jerry could’ve said to him._

_“I thought I could trust you,” Beth had sobbed._

* * *

Rick leaned against his luggage bag, grunting in annoyance as he struggled to zip it up. He let out a small sound of pleasure when the bag zipped up smoothly, the clothes packed neatly out of sight.

Pleased that he had managed to stuff all his belongings in the bag without much difficulty, Rick stood up. Thankfully, the bag still had room to spare for his most prized possession. Looking around, he spotted his gun lying underneath a pair of lacey pink panties and quickly retrieved it. With the gun packed in an easily accessible pocket of the bag, Rick clicked the bag’s lock shut and strolled to the door. His hand froze on the doorknob.

“I-I can’t believe it, Jerry,” Rick mumbled to no one. “Y-you were actually right for once. I-I’m an untrustworthy bastard w-w-who crossed the line.”

“Too bad I couldn’t stay away from your son.”

* * *

_Rick was thrown out of the house by the family, threatened with a restraining order, and told to stay away. He had chuckled to himself when he heard these demands– Rick knew that if he wanted to, he could’ve just swept Morty away, resettled in another dimension, and never looked back. But he didn’t. Rick couldn’t bring himself to do it, but he could never figure out why he thought to stay. Was it some form of punishment his subconscious had told him he had deserved?_

_Rick quietly moved out of the house without protest, avoiding the look of hope on Morty’s face when he left. His grandson probably thought that the whole thing would be resolved if Rick just invented something that would make the problem go away._ The problem,  _Rick thought bitterly,_ was that I’d let this shit go for far too long, Morty.  I’m dealing with this like a goddamn adult.

_And for weeks he had kept his promise, keeping away from the Smiths, reconnecting with old friends, renting an apartment on a planet light years from Earth in an attempt to forget Morty– but not seeing his grandson was an agony worse than anything he had ever endured. So Rick caved in and saw his grandson one more time, wanting to see the look on his face._

_The look of pure joy when Morty saw him standing outside his bedroom was enough to make Rick forget his promise. Their relationship continued, more passionate and urgent than ever before, because now there was a tinge of bittersweet regret when they parted. They couldn’t stay together, not if they wanted to risk their family discovering them. Every second they were together had Rick asking himself if it was worth it._

_Then Rick took Morty’s virginity in a moment of weakness, and Rick was snapped out of his fantasy. The full force of the realization of what he had done hit him like a herd of elephants. Rick was slapped with the answer to the question he had been asking himself:_

_It wasn’t worth it._

* * *

Rick closed the door to his apartment one last time, locking it behind him with finality. There would be no going back to this place once he made his choice. No returning to the refuge of this apartment once he had made his decision. Rick hesitated, his hand resting on his keys as he pondered his choices.

The shrill beeps of his wristwatch pierced the silence, and Rick scrambled for the buttons on its side. Quickly locating the right one, he pressed down on it and quelled the noisy watch. Reaching deep into his lab coat, he drew out the portal gun and took a deep breath. It was time.

Rick shot a portal to the Smiths’ house.

* * *

_Rick sat at the foot of his bed that night, haunted by what had happened between him and Morty. He had just taken the boy’s virginity. It was the only thing that kept Rick from not completely hating himself, and even then he couldn’t give himself that. Were there any lines that Rick hadn’t crossed? Levels that Rick wouldn’t sink to? Would he just keep on taking until Morty didn’t have anything to give? Was he going to keep taking until Morty was bled dry? He was such a fucking bastard._

_It ends here, he told himself._

_Rick pulled away from Morty abruptly, even though it felt like he was ripping his own heart in half. Then he sneered at Morty and told him he had never loved him, making Rick feel like his heart was torn into tinier pieces. Then he made sure that their family caught them together again, enduring the insults and threats to drive the point deep into Morty’s head– that they never should’ve started this whole thing in the first place. Watching Morty turn from desperate to angry to hurt to apathetic was like throwing the fragments of Rick’s heart into the toilet and flushing it away. Rick left again, this time with the conviction that he would never again make the same mistakes._

_He refused to let Morty get burned._

* * *

Yet here was Rick again, ready to risk everything because he couldn’t stay away from his grandson for more than a fucking month. Even now, even after everything that had happened, he still couldn’t bear to stay away from his grandson. And even his conscience grew weak when he had thought up of his plan for tonight. Maybe it was because what he had planned was far worse to him than any sort of punishment that Rick could think up of. It was his own sick, twisted penance.

Rick had shot his portal straight into Morty’s bedroom. He approached the sleeping figure on the bed, his heart pounding in anticipation. Rick kneeled in front of his grandson’s face, drinking in the sight that he had been deprived of for so many days. It felt like coming home.

“Morty…” Rick said softly.

Morty’s eyes fluttered open. He gave Rick a tiny smile, the haze of sleep muddling his brain. As Morty’s eyes adjusted, taking in the other’s wild blue hair and familiar lab coat, it took only a split second for his smile to slide off his face and his mouth to drop open in a squeak of indignation.

“W-WHAT THE FU-MMMMPHHHHH!” Morty’s yells were muffled when Rick slapped his hand over the other’s mouth.

“Sheesh, Morty, d-do you want to wake up the whole neighborhood?”

“N-n-no, I want to know w-what you’re doing here!” Morty retorted, ripping Rick’s hand away from his mouth. He eyed Rick suspiciously, his mouth set into a vicious scowl. “Give me a good reason not to kick you out right now. A-a-and don’t fucking bullshit me, Rick!”

“I… I just wanted to see you, Morty.” Rick admitted quietly. 

“Liar.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

 _“Stop fucking lying to me.”_ Morty said through gritted teeth. “Y-y-you’ve said everything you’ve wanted me to hear when y-y-you threw me away like garbage that night after we– a-after that night! I got your message loud and clear, Rick! N-n-now can you kindly fuck off to wherever y-you’ve been hiding for the past twenty-eight days?”

“You’ve been counting?” said Rick wryly.

Morty punched Rick in the face, letting out a growl of frustration. The elder man staggered, clutching his cheek in shock as he stared at the infuriated teen.

“M-m-mother of fuck, Rick,” Morty growled, tears in his eyes. “That’s not the point! Y-y-you had no idea what you did to me that night, did you? Y-y-you used me and pretended to love me a-and crushed my fucking heart in less than a fucking day. I loved y-you, Rick. I thought you felt the same. But apparently, I-I was wrong! I was a wreck for weeks, Rick! W-w-what have you been doing? Whoring it up at some planet at the other side of the galaxy?!” Morty nodded when Rick didn’t reply. “Thought so. Now get out of here.”

“I-I was trying to proOOOUGHtect you, Morty. I was just trying to say, that this awful dance we’re doing–”

Morty pinched his nose. “A-again with the fucking metaphors. I-I don’t want to hear them, Rick. I don’t w-w-want to hear about how our relationship is like dancing on fucking hot coals, and I-I don’t want to hear about how being together w-w-would just burn us both. I wasn’t deaf that-that night Rick. _I get it._  And I’m done. The only fucking metaphor y-y-you need is that there  _is no metaphor._ No more fucking dances. No salsas, no slow dancing, no cha chas, no funky chicken or whatever insane thing you’re thinking up of to describe this thing we had. If you want to, I don’t know, do the fucking tango, dance by yourself, because I-I sure as hell won’t be doing it with  _you.”_

“–Let me finish, y-y-you little shit,” Rick cut him off. “I-I was going to say, I agree with you. I’m not going to touch you anymore, and I-I-I don’t want to make any excuses for the shit I’ve done. B-but I want–no, need–you around. A-a-and I’m here for a fresh start.” Rick dumped his luggage bag on Morty’s bed pointedly.

Morty jerked away from his grandfather. “Y-y-you asshole, thinking about yourself again. I-I’m  _never_  going to want to be w-w-with you, Rick. N-not in a million years. And do you think y-you could just waltz right in and expect e-everything to return to normal? Mom and dad w-would never agree to letting you stay in this house. A-a-and I’m never leaving mom and dad and Summer. I-I’m not like you, Rick. Did y-you really expect me to choose you over them, after what you did? Did you even think this plan through?”

Rick sighed. “No, I never planned for that, Morty. I-I only thoUUURPght to I’d give what you want. A-a-and I thought it would be a good way of simultaneoOOOUGHusly punishing myself for what I did.”

Morty snorted incredulously. “Y-y-you think I wanted this? A-a-any of this? Rick, this is the furthest thing from w-what I want. Y-y-you want to know what I want? I want this whole nightmare to be over. I-I want to be able to stop thinking about you. I-I want to forget everything. I-I wish this whole thing had never happened! It fucked with my mind, it fucked with my heart, I-I can’t think think straight a-a-and– God, Rick. I-if there was a do-over button for all the shit that happened between us, I’d push it in a heartbeat. I’d never,  _ever_ make the stupid mistake of falling in love with–”

_BZZZZT_

The light was blinding and instantaneous. Morty collapsed in a heap, his body sprawled awkwardly on the floor and his eyes blank and unseeing. The smell of static hung in the air. Rick stood off to the side, a grim look on his face as he gripped his memory gun more tightly.

“Exactly,” Rick replied to his immobilized grandson. “I’m giving you what you want, Morty.”

Rick turned and stuffed the memory gun back in his luggage bag. His grandson would wake up the next day with no memories of what had transpired between them. Every memory of Rick and Morty’s relationship would be wiped clean from Morty’s mind. Morty would go back to treating him like an ordinary grandfather. Their relationship would return to normal. They would continue as if nothing had happened, and Morty would return to being the happy, optimistic, and kind boy he always was.

He should have done this ages ago. But Rick never had the balls to, because deep down, he hadn’t wanted Morty to forget what he had with Rick. He hadn’t wanted Morty to forget all they did together.  He hadn’t wanted Morty to forget  _him._ But now he didn’t have any choice.

One down, some several dozen more to go. Summer would be next. When he was done modifying all the memories of the people who had learned of his and Morty’s relationship, Rick could go back home. He could go back to talking to Beth without feeling like complete shit. He could continue annoying Jerry without a tiny voice screaming at the back of his mind. He could banter with Summer again, without hiding the knowledge of a terrible secret. No one would remember. No one but Rick, that is. If he erased his own memories, he’d just risk turning it into a cycle again. He couldn’t afford to fall for Morty again.  _And besides,_ Rick thought, stopping outside of Summer’s room. His hand rested on the hardwood door.

_I don’t deserve to forget this._


End file.
